In the Twilight of Us
by HarleyandDavid
Summary: Partner in crime prompted: post movie, Priest lives with Lucy and Hicks, but nightmares are plaguing him, and something is searching for him in the dark.  Two parter, M for second chapter, will be Priest/Blackhat. Sorry if title sounds lame.
1. Even the Day

**Title:** Even the Day Can't Destroy Every Shadow

**Author:** Harley

**Fandom:** Priest  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T (for this chapter)  
><strong>Length:<strong> 2,306

**Warning(s):** Just some nightmares, nothing TOO scary though, just stuff really

**Pairing/Characters:** No pairing for this chapter, characters are just Priest and Blackhat, and Lucy and Hicks in passing. Well, ok then you could say hints at Lucy/Hicks cause I mention them getting married, but they aren't the MAIN pairing or nothing.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own the movie, not yet at least *evil laugh* Jk, jk. I don't own the movie, gonna buy it so fast when it comes out though! Oh, I also don't own the quote (obviously) I put who said it too, like a good girl. I wanted to come up with a quote myself, but my brain didn't want to XD  
><strong>AN:** Alright, part one of two of, sorry if the title sounds kind of lame, I wanted something that works for the first chapter being Day and the second being Night. Anyway, aside from that... My first story that actually is a two parter without being prompted too hard for! D.A.V.I.D said she wanted a story where Priest lives with Lucy and Hicks and has nightmares of something lurking in the dark, and at the end... you find out what it really is. So, that's what I did. I gave it to her and she said "well, that can't be the end, what happens next? and add sex." SO! I started on a second chapter and it will be up whenever I finish. If you came into this because you follow our other stories then thank you so much for risking a tiptoe away from our usual Riddick stories to read this, hope EVERYONE likes it, I don't think it spoils the movie too much, but it would help if you have seen the movie! Alright, enjoy, have fun, and drop a comment if you see something wrong!

EDIT: I did some edits into the chapter while working on the second chapter. Nothing too big I don't think, just some small things. Thanks for being so patient with us. The second chapter will be up in a sec.

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><p>"Your nightmares follow you like a shadow, forever."<p>

— Aleksandar Hemon (The Lazarus Project)

After the incident, he moved a lot, wandering here and there, finding hives trying to rebuild themselves. He'd slaughter them, take them apart with the Priestess by his side. He still prayed over their soulless bodies as usual, he still whispered passages of the holy bible to himself at sunrise when he lay in the darkness of his room trying to sleep. Despite the constant moving, he still had to return somewhere for rest. The cities would not take him back, but that was fine. It had always been dark in the cities and he had lost track of when it was really day or night after a while. Augustine was his home now, with Lucy and Hicks. They played house, and did a good job at such, marrying soon after the fear and adrenaline washed away with the flames. Lucy was happy, and that's all he could ask for. But, for some reason, it did not alleviate the pain at the betrayal of his fallen brother.

Or stop the nightmares.

-v-v-

The first one was natural, he'd had them after trying to come back to society after the war. So when he closed his eyes the night after the train, he knew to expect some. But it didn't lessen. It didn't slowly get better. It didn't _stop_. He'd wake with the image of flickering flames burned into his eyelids, and the sounds of creatures scuttling beyond a ring of it. It was several months later when he finally, finally realized it was more than just nightmares. He knew there was something that was causing them, somehow he knew in the back of his head and it was coming out through his dreams. It was five months of nightmares later, that he closed his eyes and realized that he knew.

Flames were everywhere, and he could taste blood in his mouth. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew it _wasn't_ his. He tried to spit it out but it only slid across his tongue and burned his lips. It didn't help that somehow his mouth felt dry, despite the sticky liquid in his mouth. He ignored it, as he had trained himself to do on the battle field. Instead he surveyed the rest of his body. His clothes were tattered and his feet hurt from the rough terrain he'd walked after so long of smooth city roads. His hands were stained red, and it felt like it was being scorched. Wiping it on his pants, trying to get rid of it, his skin peeled from his hands and now he was bleeding. He tried to wrap his hands but the sounds of vampires circling around the flames told him it wouldn't matter. Standing up straight he tried to clench his fists only to grimace at the feel of bloody muscles moving against each other without hindrance of skin.

It was the sudden and quick silence that had him feeling… scared. He wasn't used to fear, only when he first became a priest had he felt fear. Now, this was a different feeling curling in his stomach. It was the feeling that beyond the circle of flames the vampires had gone, but something else was there, something more menacing. Something infinitely patient, and incredibly strong. Something that knew his every thought, and his next move. That knew when he would turn to try and escape the flames, and how to kick him just right to knock him back to the center and push the air from his lungs. He could hear the footsteps of something approaching but despite the light of the flames he could not see what it was. It was standing next to him, over him.

Even then, he couldn't see what it was. He stared at where it should be, and he could feel it sneer as something pushed against his chest, stopping it from heaving in the air it needed. He gasped, eyes widening trying to grab a hold of whatever it was, but it was like a shadow with no form or mass. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the pain of his chest slowly compressing down on itself.

He woke up gasping for the air deprived from him in the dream, unable to move from his spot on the bed. He lay there, in a cold sweat, shivering and blinking into the dark. The only light a sliver under the door. He held his breath and listened. Lucy was setting the table for dinner, Hicks was talking about something that had happened on his patrol today. The soft laugh Lucy gave allowed him to let out a sigh of relief. He sat up rubbing at his face. Something fell with a clatter to the floor and he stiffened. It lay at his feet, having slid from his chest. With shaking hands he reached for it in the dark. Cold sharp metal met his finger tips and he pulled them back when one was cut open. Slower this time, he reached and picked up whatever it was. In the impossibly dim light he made out the shape of a cross. But this wasn't any cross. He remembers the dagger, the one he used to stop his once brother from hurting his daughter any further. The one that imbedded into the other man's neck. The one that he had ripped from his throat and loomed over the priest as he prepared to kill him. The one that had been lost in the explosion of the train along with the man who had caused so much pain and anger and hatred.

There was a long stretch of silence in the other room and then Lucy was knocking at his door. He put the cross aside as he stood, lifting his finger tips to his mouth. The bloodied finger throbbed and he stopped. The warm liquid sluggishly slid down his finger, making a trail down the palm of his hand. The smell of blood filled his mind, and in the dark he saw remnants of his nightmare. There was another, slightly louder knock. He dropped his hand, quickly wrapping the small wound in a bit of cloth before joining the two for grace and the small meal Lucy had prepared.

It was then that he knew, he was being followed by something. And he wasn't sure he was ready to admit that it could only be one thing. One person.

-v-v-

It had to be fate, that Hicks would learn about the dreams. He'd been home when the gasp of pain came from the darkened room and he had burst through the door to see what it could have been. They only talked about it that one time, but Hicks still gave him a glass of something strong after he woke up from such dreams. Hicks wouldn't tell him what it was, and he wouldn't ask. It was sin by ignorance, but he already felt like his sleeping in the day and walking at night was some sort of betrayal to his god. So it was understood, without being spoken, that it didn't matter anymore.

And it was never spoken of that Lucy wasn't to be told. They both silently agreed on it. She didn't need the fear of knowing that the man that had haunted her own dreams, but not for nearly as long, was still out there. It was almost a year later, with nightmares still very present in his life, that he got his answer.

-v-v-

In the dreams, they slowly spiraled closer together, felt more painful and lasted forever. The creature would get closer, and soon he could see a faint outline of it. It never spoke, but it sneered with sharp teeth, and laughed a long almost sorrowful cackle. It loomed over him, and caused pain, but only once did it leave something. The scene varied, it could be black nothing beyond the flames, or the wastelands, or even once a rickety train car, and what happened always changed as well. He never had the same dream twice, but always the fear, and the knowing that something was out there in the dark beyond the flames and for some reason he just couldn't see it.

This one he was walking through the narrow passages of Sola Mira, reminiscent of dreams he had before. This was different. It was empty, silent, making his way up to where he and the priestess had encountered the hive guardian he stopped in the center flames erupted around him and shadows flickered through the room. Something warm landed on his cheek, dripping down and over his lips. He didn't need to taste it to know what it was by the texture. He glanced up, to find his old friends and his current family hanging by their feet, torn apart. He gasped looking up at them. Another drop hit right below his eye, mixing with a tear that beg swelling over at seeing Lucy, his Lucy. He looked away quickly. He couldn't watch the blood drain from her, and drip to his face any further.

He shuddered when he was suddenly showered by their blood, falling quickly and drenching him. He tried to clench his eyes shut but it was too late. He wiped, almost clawed, at his face as the rain of blood stopped, he tried to get it out of his eyes, away from his mouth, tried to breathe properly. He looked up and there were eyes, right in front of him. The creature was right there, staring at him with only enough room to allow them to breathe without touching. In his dreams there were never eyes, nothing distinguishable, it was only a guess as to what-to who- the creature was.

But now, those hauntingly beautiful eyes were staring at me. A hand ran through the gore covering my face and down to my throat. Nails gently probed at where the vein was, feeling the blood slide through tubes, and my heart stutter in its place. The touch turns almost gentle running down the muscle of my throat across my clavicle, over the bone and moving cloth out of the way. He presses his palm to my chest to be closer to my beating heart, and the eyes burn into my head and through my soul and out the other side.

But he moves slowly as he tilts closer and I suddenly can't look. Closing my eyes tight I feel it wash away and I open them quickly knowing that I am waking from my dream. I was right… and I was wrong. In the dark of my room I see his eyes staring down at me. The hand over my chest having slid up under the hem of my shirt. It isn't pressing down, or even ripping my heart from me like I know he can. It's just sitting there, and I don't know if I should be scared, or worried, or mesmerized by the surprising warmth filling my chest from where his hand rests, and the oddity of beauty that glow in the eyes that really shouldn't with no light.

My wits come back to me and I hold my breath as quickly as I realize it. Listening beyond the thundering sound of my heart to the other room. Lucy is there, I can hear her breath and the sway of her dress as she hums over the stove. I hear the low rumble and the beat of two hearts as Hicks asks her if she has gone to the doctor yet about the baby. My senses relax as my worry for my family dims. They are alive, they are safe. That's all that matters. I turn my whole attention back to him. And he stares down at me with a hint of amusement knowing that I was content with being killed here and now if only Lucy and Hicks are alright… and the baby.

The hand on my chest curls fingertips pressing gently, not harsh, against the skin and I feel like I'm being burned. I don't flinch from the nails leaving crescents in my chest, and he knows I won't make a sound if he were to dig in and shift my ribs to get to the fluttering organ beneath. I'm vaguely aware of a sound at the door but I keep my focus on him, telling him with the eyes I know he can see in the dark room, that I will not let him hurt my family. I can sense him smile

"Father?" I'm drawn from our concentration as Lucy knocks again. "Father, dinner is ready, will you join us for grace?" The hand lets up on the pressure, slowly drawing down my torso, over my abdomen, he lingers for a moment, as if not ready to draw our warmth away from each other. But the hand lifts away and I can still see his eyes staring at me as I stand and move to the door. I open it for my daughter glancing back out of the corner of my eye, but there is nothing there. I almost sigh, and I'm not sure if it's in relief or… disappointment. It had to have been a dream, the creature in the dark having been a half awake dream. I smile to my daughter, her worried look smoothed into a smile when I assure her I am fine. Moving into the dining room, I turn as I close the door.

And in the dark, a glow of eyes and a sharp toothed smile flash at me from the creature that stalks my nightmares.


	2. Only the Night

**Title:** Only the Night can Banish the Dark

**Author:** Harley

**Fandom:** Priest  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M (for this chapter)  
><strong>Length:<strong> 2,071

**Warning(s):** Implied sex, nothing much heavier then that :\

**Pairing/Characters:** Priest and Black Hat yea... that's about it.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own the movie, except my blue ray copy, that's about it. Oh, I also don't own the quote (obviously) I put who said it too, like a good girl. Decided it worked mighty well for the chapter. I think.  
><strong>AN:** Part two of two. This. This chapter. If any of you can tell. Took me forever, not because it was going to be amazing but because I had mass writer's block. And I think it showed through. Like... :I no joke. Not to give you a biased view. But I feel horribly disgusted with this, but I dont' want to work on it anymore, I want it out of my sight, so I figured I owed it to you all to at least post it. Please tell me if I misspelled anything, or if you hate it, or any suggestions on making it better, I might get to it eventually, just, not now. I'm done with this fic and if I do edits it's not going to be anytime soon.

Thanks for being so patient with us, especially with me, and I hope you can forgive me for failing.

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><p>"Remember, darkness does not always equate to evil, just as light does not always bring good."<p>

— P.C. Cast (Betrayed)

It was well after Lucy and Hicks went to bed before I finally brought myself up from my seat. The lights in the dining room were dimmed, enough to cause shadows to flicker in the corner of my eye, but not enough to keep me from guessing if they were really just shadows. I stood in front of the door to their room. I swear I could hear their hearts beat and the rustle of their sheets as they shifted in their sleep. Silently moving to my own door, I stopped in front of it. It was a long time before I brought my hand to run against the grain of the wood. I didn't hear anything within, but the sense of something placing a hand to the door on the other side was almost as loud as if I had heard something.

There was a lengthy silence and stillness before I brought myself to whisper "the East." As I pulled away I knew despite how quiet and the two inches of wood between us that he had heard it. I was sure that if he had been able to get into my windowless room without alerting us, that he'd be able to get out, and didn't let myself think too hard on how he had done it. I moved maybe a little too quickly. I fled the house and flew across the desert as fast as my vehicle would take me. A normal human would never have been able to keep up, but it was almost as if over the hum of the engine I could hear the running footsteps of something pursuing me. I wasn't afraid, more relieved that he decided to follow instead of once more causing my family pain.

-v-v-

It was some outpost, out in the east.

During the war, we had ducked in to the run down hut in the middle of nowhere. From the ruin it was obvious vampires had attacked whatever poor unlucky soul that had the previous misfortune to sleep there. We had tumbled onto the dusty hardwood, breathing heavy from the running, the bikes destroyed when we were ambushed. The sun peaked through the planks of crumbling wood, and in a fit of exhaustion, we slept, bodies tangled together for the comfort and need more than from the necessity or want.

It was a distant memory. But it seemed fitting as I entered the sad excuse for a home. The roof was caving now, probably not a very safe place for this. The floors were littered with broken beams, what was left of a table, several memorabilia lost somewhere in the debris. The door to the bedroom was barely hanging on to its hinges, clinging for its life as if to fall would shatter it. Which could be true. I took a step towards the room, halting mid step as the stale air shifted. The smell wasn't strong, as I'd thought. But the stench of death and carnage still lingered on the other man, too unmistakable to be anyone other than _him._

"You've been following me." It seems wrong to speak, but I want answers. And if he hasn't killed me yet, it just may mean he is willing to give them.

"You've been letting me."

I tense at the words. In a way, I have. I never tried to confront him before. Or at least confront the dreams.

"Why?"

"Think hard."

Turning, determined to get proper answers, the moment I was facing his direction, he was pressing me against the wall. I had a knife to his throat, and he twitched a clawed hand over my heart. His golden eyes stared into mine. _Windows of the soul._ I think, for a moment in time, that just maybe I can read his as well as he seems to be reading mine. I know I can't possibly survive this. I can feel the flex of his fingers as he wishes to claw at the skin to make me bleed and die for letting go, for striving to end him after doing so once before.

But that isn't what the man does.

The sharp claws click idly for a moment before one slices through the thick fabric of shirt robes. Sharpened steel flinches against the creature's neck. It does nothing to deter him, not even the small trickle of blood running down his strong neck. With the slow draw and uncharacteristic calm coming from the vampire, I almost think I could slice open his neck and drain his body dry with an arc of my wrist and he'd do nothing to stop it. Yet I stay my blade, when his hand rests gently on the revealed flesh of my chest, just over my heart. He does nothing but feel the beat, and listen to the blood flowing just under the surface and beyond.

My breath hitches in my chest and golden eyes twitch up to look into mine.

To this day I do not know what either of us saw, what piece of our souls we had given away and what we had received.

I heard my blade clatter to the ground, more then I felt my fingers letting go. I expected the prick of teeth on my neck after such an obvious surrender. Instead his desert chapped lips touched mine. It wasn't tender, or loving. It was hard and passionate, demanding , almost begging, for more. I gasped at the flood of emotions he was pressing into my mouth. His tongue quickly ran the length of my teeth, tasting me. My fingers shoved the hat away, shifting and gripping his hair tightly getting a moan from the beast that was holding me captive. It was wrong. So very, very wrong. But it felt, and it tasted so right.

Clothes fall from the movement of our hands, sinning by the mere thought of touching another's flesh. But I want it, and I've sinned enough against my vows to know I'm neither a Priest nor a normal man anymore. Together we were something more.

We stood bare and shivering despite our proximity. Our eyes roaming over lines of muscles and smooth planes of skin, unsure where this was leading but knowing we both wanted it. When, finally, I pressed fingertips to his skin, I was surprised by how warm it felt. The vampires we fought had cool flesh, being creatures of the night they were used to it. And yet his flesh felt warm. He watched me carefully, as my fingers slid down his body, gliding along old scars, and new muscle. We breathed in time with each other, and I could feel his changed heart drumming with mine. Minutes beat by, my fingers and palms memorizing every slope and valley. Soon his hands joined the search, pressing into my skin, running up my stomach and over my ribs. His left hand swooped down the side, running over sharp hipbone as his right pressed soothing fingers into the ragged scar he had left the last time we came face to face. He traced every jagged piece of flesh, an angry reminder of the past, of what should be happening now rather than… whatever this was.

Lips followed fingers over the scar, tasting the skin and the scar as he had my mouth only minutes before. Or was it longer? I wasn't quite sure. I couldn't keep focus as his tongue lapped at my shoulder and his body pressed close to mine, slowly pressing and rolling his hips. Gasping, the press of his body to mine was intense, a burning intensity that I hadn't felt in so long. I wanted it, I wanted more. My blood was singing through my veins, the heat of the moment was making my head spin, I wanted him to bite me, to sink his fangs into my throat and drink until I was dry. Something told me he wouldn't though. I wanted to feel disappointed but his lips were on mine again. The taste of blood filled my mouth and he gasped, his lip caught between my teeth. It tasted metallic, and somehow slightly sweet with something underlying it. He pulled back in surprise, my lips following after him. His eyes dilated further as they skimmed the line of my lips, stained red with his blood. My breathing was picking up, my heart beat pounding against my ribs. I understood for a moment how the vampires could enjoy the taste. He smiled wickedly, teeth gleaming, blood welling up on his kiss bruised lips.

It seemed like seconds and years at the same time, making it past the dying door and into the bedroom of the house. It was a single mattress, the bed having collapsed and torn apart in the raid. It didn't matter. I didn't care. He pressed me to the stiff material, and the vague sense of belonging came over me as my body reacted to his every move, his every touch, in exactly the way it should. His strong grip lessened to grip my burning flesh and tug with just the right twist to make me thrash.

"God…" I whispered into the moonlight. He pulled back and his fingers halted. His teeth scrapped my ear in annoyance.

"He's not listening." He growled. "Not now, not ever. Tonight you are mine." He clawed at my legs dragging them apart and up, and…

It burned.

It burned, but I wanted every inch of the heat, of the pressure. It hurt, but I wanted it.

"Mine." He growled again. My body lit up at the words grabbing hold of him with my shaking hands I pulled him close again, forcing his lips on mine to gasp and groan into his mouth. From pain or pleasure even I wasn't sure. Each thrust felt like my bones would crack, and his hands on my hips if they didn't snap they would be black forever. And I wanted it so. I wanted a constant reminder of this moment, just as my shoulder was a testament to our last.

"Mine." He whispered again, before grabbing hold of me, and pulling me to completion.

-v-v-

I hadn't realized I'd passed out until I was waking to the heat of a hand pressed to my chest.

"I won't ask for forgiveness for everything that has happened. For I do not regret it. Especially not tonight. I will ask that if we had met differently would you have come with me." He whispered into the dark, obviously having not noticed the change in breathing in my chest. He sat on the edge of the bed, his body twisted away from me, but his hand did not make a movement to leave.

"No." I responded just as softly. His gold eyes turned to me, looking down on me. I did not return the gaze. I couldn't return it. "I'm sure even if we had met differently I would not have left when you offered. You were planning to kill so many."

"I understand. But it is in my nature now. And I will not deny what I believe."

"And _I_ understand. I'll keep stopping you though." The silence stretched for a moment. I hadn't noticed until he removed his hat to run a hand through his hair that he was dressed. He nodded as he put the hat securely on his head before turning and grinning menacingly. Fangs sparkling in the light filtering through rotting planks.

"Good. Taking you would be far less exciting if you didn't struggle a bit." His lips pressed to mine again, our tongues meeting half way. Closing my eyes we indulged in a quiet moment, somehow necessary after the swiftness of our encounter. I ran my tongue over the scab on his lip, smiling to myself as his fingers pressed against my skin again, counting my ribs. He pulled away. "Until later, my pet." He growled.

When I opened my eyes he was gone. The only indication the man had even existed was the smell of death and blood he left behind, the pulsing bruises he left in my skin, and the aching burn he left empty and deep within me. I closed my eyes and sighed. Counting the seconds from now until the next time we would meet.


End file.
